


in ways that can't be said

by luxeberries



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, how many of my fics has that tag, its a pattern i am aware of, no need to call out my touch starved ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxeberries/pseuds/luxeberries
Summary: Geralt comes back from a hunt to find Jaskier waiting up for him (again)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 130





	in ways that can't be said

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'fair' by the amazing devil because i love them.  
> i have a lot more geraskier fics to come so stay tuned!

It's a late, cold night. Autumn is finally kicking in, biting Geralt's fingers with the cold despite the gloves he wears to protect his hands. Perhaps he should invest in some woollen ones before his fingers become numb enough that he drops his sword mid-fight one day.

He'd been asked by the town's alderman to dispatch of a couple of nightwraiths. Just two, but that's more than one so he's sluggish and tired as he walks back to the old cottage he and Jaskier are staying at. The alderman had been kind, told them - "The Inn here, well, it's not great, not even decent, but there is an abandoned house in the woods just behind the other houses. I don't think anyone would mind you staying there.". And really, it is a nice place; a big hearth in the living area, long unused but still in working condition, and one in the bedroom, and really that's all Geralt cares about right now. That, and the warm body in the warm bed waiting for him.

He'd left Jaskier at the cottage, not wanting to risk a drained or injured bard as well as himself because, much to Geralt's chagrin, Jaskier never stays in the hiding spot Geralt tells him to, whether because he's just plain curious or because he's taking a blow for Geralt (Who the fuck would risk their arm for a witcher? He's a fucking bard, for Gods' sakes- he needs his hands). Jaskier had done the usual routine- pouted, argued that, "I'll stay hidden this time! They'll never know I was there!", and promptly gave up after Geralt refused him again. He hasn't done that in a while actually, and Geralt wonders if maybe Jaskier was scared to be left alone in an abandoned house in the woods which... is fair. _Maybe I should have let him come with me_ , he thinks. But now the bed will be warm, and that's just more appealingly than lugging Jaskier home.

He laughs to himself as the cottage comes into sight.

_This is hardly home._

With shaky, numb hands, he just barely opens the door. It creaks in protest, as do most of the floorboards. He passes by the small kitchen and dining table, straight to the stairs. It really is a nice place, and with the life of someone's belongings around Geralt bets it would look very cozy. He wonders why the owner left it. Maybe they died, maybe they found something better.

There's a candle still lit when he enters, illuminating Jaskier's half-asleep face. There's a book splayed open on the floor just below his hand that hangs off the edge of the bed he's laid in. _Idiot_. Upon the door creaking closed, Jaskier shifts drowsily and mumbles, "You're back." Geralt sighs and picks up the book - some of murder mystery, with the obligatory romantic subplot (Jaskier's guilty pleasure genre) - to set it on the small table in the corner of the room. He starts take off his armor, overcomplicated buckle by overcomplicated buckle.

"And you're still awake," He replies with a quiet, tired exasperation, placing his armor by the hearth.

Jaskier nods, smiles and hums. "Just for you."

With a laugh disguised as a huff, sore muscles and an ache in his chest, Geralt strips down to his shirt and smalls. "You need to stop doing this," He says, not unkindly, and motions for Jaskier to move. Apparently, judging by how Jaskier fails to shift back by much, he's just as fatigued as Geralt, so he slips under the covers beside Jaskier, gently moving them to the middle of the bed, or as far as so Geralt doesn't fall of the edge of it.

"No," Jaskier mumbles. "Gotta make sure you're okay..."

Stupidly, tears prick at Geralt's eyes, and he holds him closer with an arm curled around his waist, and Jaskier, pliant as ever when he's tired, goes willingly. "I'm always okay," He says, voice rumbling in his chest.

Jaskier shakes his head, pressing further into his chest. "Not always."

Geralt takes a deep, grounding breath and hides his face in Jaskier's hair. "Go to sleep," He rasps. Jaskier hums in lieu of a reply.

When Jaskier does fall asleep, which is approximately two seconds later, Geralt presses a kiss to his head.

And if that's his way of thanking Jaskier, that's his secret.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave a comment!


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